Featherweights and Fight-lanthropy

I have already espoused at length -- both on radio and in print --
the strengths and sweetness of Sengoku's featherweight tournament.
This praise, however, is more specific.

In many cases, fights themselves cannot speak to the true acumen
with which they were designed. An exciting clash of styles may end
quickly and unceremoniously before it turns into the blazing bout
that's anticipated, while two outstanding and routinely
entertaining fighters may not have modus operandi that thrillingly
compliment one another. However, Sengoku's featherweight tournament
opener was truly a display of well-crafted, conscientious
matchmaking, regardless of a casual public more enamored with the
stars of Dream, or the ongoing anemic live attendances.

Better still, parent company World Victory Road may be the world's
foremost combat sports charity; fight-lanthropists, if you
will.

Allow me to point out that WVR didn't necessarily get the 16
fighters that it wanted for its tournament. Both Michihiro
Omigawa and Shintaro
Ishiwatari ended up in the bracket, but only did so because
they fought to a draw in their Jan. 18 Shooto bout, which was
intended as a tournament eliminator. WVR struggled to fill the
grand prix, as two of their high profile pursuits, Shooto world
champion "Lion Takeshi" Takeshi
Inoue and Deep titlist Dokonjonosuke
Mishima both fell through. Inoue’s omission was due to Shooto
promoters requiring his services for their 20th Anniversary card on
May 10 in the middle of the tournament, and Mishima fell to a knee
injury. This is how the likes of Jong Man Kim
gained entry into the tournament.

Despite putting together a damn good tournament ripe with
featherweight prospects, the line-up wasn't as potent as WVR had
hoped. Yet, the promotion played the hand it was dealt brilliantly,
as it got near-perfect outcomes out of its featherweight
tournament's opening round bouts. Not every bout was
hypercompetitive and, I can't say that I necessarily think the
"best" eight fighters advanced. However, the matchmaking was both
entertaining, and in many cases, pragmatic. Tournament favorites
Hatsu
Hioki and Marlon
Sandro inspired excitement for future rounds with sterling
performances, while strong showings from the other quarterfinalists
did likewise, while giving many young prospects the chance to
develop in the ring before our eyes.

For instance, Nam Phan, a
dynamic grappler with improving standup, got to work his striking
in true action against rock solid vet Hideki
Kadowaki. In doing so, Phan notched a first-round knockout and
created considerable excitement for his continuing tournament
bid.

Daniel Herbertson/Sherdog.com

Hioki showed that he is the
class of the tournament.

Nick
Denis was a favorite over Seiya
Kawahara, but he had never fought anyone with offensive
firepower that he had to respect. In facing his biggest offensive
threat to date, Denis turned in the best performance of his young
career, showing a new level of striking sharpness as he took out
Kawahara where he typically excels.

Chan
Sung Jung, while already being acquainted with overcoming
adversity, got to show his uncanny ruggedness and offensive skills
against a gamer in Shintaro Ishiwatari. Jong Man Kim's
one-dimensional mediocrity may have been out of place in the
bracket, but WVR matched him effectively against Masanori
Kanehara, who has struggled with falling asleep at the wheel
during bouts, and was forced to be crisp and calculating for the
full 15 against Kim.

The lone true upset of the first round came courtesy of Michihiro
Omigawa, who knocked off hot prospect L.C. Davis
with a commanding decision victory. Here, it is easy to see what
sets WVR apart from other Japanese promoters.

Most WVR employees are from the offices of J-Rock, the management
company that handles Hidehiko
Yoshida and his pupils, including Omigawa; J-Rock president
Takahiro Kokuho is simultaneously Sengoku's figurehead. It would
have been incredibly easy for WVR to lob Omigawa an opening round
softball, and fans would have tolerated it, as such tactics are
common Japanese promotional practice.

Instead, Omigawa was matched tough, and he was forced to abandon
his brawling tactics of the past in favor of utilizing his clinch
skills and top game. For Davis, the consequences may be positive in
defeat as well, as the bout revealed his undeveloped guard game and
offers an easy vision of where he ought to improve.

My favorite of all was the pairing of UK standout Ronnie Mann
and 18-year-old recent high school graduate Tetsuya
Yamada, and not for any reason actually relating to the fight
itself.

Yamada could have provided an easy and exploitable storyline for
WVR to peddle to their domestic media. The Japanese's pathological
obsession with Murakami-esque "Little Boy" archetypes often leads
to the media’s sensationalism of any promising youth. With the
built-in "Super High School Student" gimmick and WVR's inability to
engage casual fans and the lay-public, coddling Yamada would be the
expected move from a promotion desperate to stop losing money.

Instead, last week, (though I hate to gossip) when asked privately
by a Japanese journalist why Yamada wasn't given a gimme in the
first round despite his obvious upside with the media, Takahiro
Kokuho simply replied, "That's not the kind of promotion I
run."

Indeed it is not.

Now a year old, Sengoku's matchmaking and product is still every
bit as esoteric as it was to begin with. It's no secret that when
it comes to MMA, Japan is amidst the latter part of its cultural
boom-bust cycle. As with all things that become reinvigorated --
but especially sports -- it takes truly particular and engaging
personalities to galvanize the Japanese public, the way that the
likes of Bob
Sapp, Hidehiko Yoshida, Masato and others played pivotal roles
in the kakutougi boom in years past.

WVR have made nominal attempts to snare some casual interest, using
popular figures like the aforementioned Yoshida and Josh Barnett,
playing into historical storylines with the use of Brazilian
jiu-jitsu stars like Roger
Gracie and Alexandre
"Xande" Ribeiro, and trying to build Japanese aces like
Takanori
Gomi and Kazuo
Misaki. However, it's extremely telling that the first-ever
bout the promotion staged was Nick
Thompson against Fabricio
Monteiro -- two rock-solid welterweights, both virtually
unknown to non-hardcore fans.

These sorts of matchups typify Sengoku's product. Despite the fact
the promotion has yet to do anything even remotely close to turning
a profit, WVR has consistently continued to craft an event that
caters mostly to the most ardent cadre of MMA fans, the sorts with
accounts to multiple MMA torrent websites, who find joy in live
streams of D-level shows from the Midwest, and who are excited by
the fact that WVR consistently chooses some of the most
deserving-but-overlooked Japanese fighters, and
unheralded-but-outstanding foreign talent to populate its card. For
casual fans on either side of the Pacific, the charm is lost.

Short of signing a Japanese Olympian who, by dumb luck, happens to
resound with the Japanese public, WVR has no hopes of making
Sengoku profitable any time soon. WVR's wealthy benefactors are
essentially funding fight opportunities for MMA's best unsigned and
underrated talent. That sort of benevolence isn't financially
prudent, but it is invaluable to the sport; it is the mindset which
allowed the likes of Satoru
Kitaoka and Jorge
Santiago to enter the spotlight from the fringes of their
divisions, and will inevitably put a crop of great young
featherweights on the map over the course of the year.

I will end this essay on a linguistic note: If you indulge in
Japanese wordplay, the name "Takahiro Kokuho" can be taken to mean
"prosperous treasure," and even if the public regard Kokuho's
product as junk, for the fiercest of fight freaks, it's nothing
short of gold.